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“Her gift… what kind of things did she see?” he finally found the courage to ask.
Sighing, his father sat back and clasped his hands over his abdomen.
“When we found out we were having you, she started to have the dreams. Ones where you were covered in blood not your own,” Devon flinched at this, but kept silent. “Then the dreams started to become more… abstract and she would space out during the day with them, to the point where I worried about her even taking a bath or walking to the market alone.”
His father reached up to scratch his eyebrow in thought before he ran his hand down his face.
“She would see large trees or vines pulling headstones and graves down underneath the earth. Wraiths walking beside her, vines wrapping around her ankles and pulling her down. She would see what she thought was Hell and someone crawling from the ground, the person was pure starlight, if that makes any sense at all. Your mother feared that person greatly.”
Devon remained quiet as he watched his father process everything and try to remember things from so long ago.
“The water. She was so fearful of water before she left us. It never made any sense to me, but she said, ‘The water could change the course of our fate. It would betray and take from us, yet we worshiped it as if it brought life’.
“That was about when I thought her mad. She refused to go to the river by herself, sure that a river demon would kill her. It just became more bizarre until I was fearful she would hurt you. It wasn’t long before we woke up one morning after a fight where I told her as much and she was gone.”
He stared down at his son’s hand in his. Devon’s hands must look so much larger now. His father’s hands were as he remembered, but more wrinkled and spotted. The same worn marks from hard work adorned his skin.
“I had that for a time before she started with the dreams; the spark. It is important. It is more than lust. I see you finally have it, my boy.” He looked at Devon as he patted the top of his hand. “This Persephone, our queen, you care for her. She must for you, for to take the waters of memory always requires a sacrifice. She gave something for our time together. I am happy you have that but I worry what it means that you are attached to such a powerful person. Don’t lose yourself in her shadows. Stand beside her and not behind her, that way you do not allow the potential of what you could be with her fall through your fingers. You should find balance with her if she is your true soulmate.”
The soulbond mark on Devon’s wrist lit with his father’s words as if in agreement.
***
Devon told Persephone all that his father had conveyed to him of the visions. She seemed to know immediately who the river demon was and how a Titan had found a way into the Underworld.
“Tristan!” she shouted, bolting up from a couch in the study.
“Tristan,” he growled in agreement.
“Wait. Tristan was not ruling then, but his father was. She most likely saw Tristan in the future, and with his behavior the other day and his escape, he has to be the one bringing the Titan in through the river system. I had thought it a few times, thinking the attack at the gates had something to do with it, but never enough evidence to prove it. You were right — that was a diversion for them to make their attempt on Tartarus. Perhaps the orange coloring was the Titan giving power to Tristan in an attempt to trigger the gate…” she mused as she paced back and forth.
She stopped suddenly and held her hand out to him.
“Come with me?” she asked, and he nodded in response, relieved to feel the pieces finally starting to come together. He felt her pull him into a jump and they were suddenly inside a familiar office building overlooking the city through floor-to-ceiling windows. He stayed quiet as Persephone guided him to sit across from three empty seats.
In a flash of light, three women, the Moirai in their separate forms, were in the seats before them. He managed not to jump at their sudden appearance or how unnerving it was that they started to giggle as one.
The Moirai were extremely creepy creatures.
He glanced at Persephone as she laid a comforting hand on his arm with a little eye roll that helped to relieve his discomfort.
Before he could gather his thoughts, he watched Persephone pull her cold demeanor forward. The Goddess and C.E.O. merged into one as she turned her focus on the creatures in front of her.
She held a powerful grace that reminded him of a lioness.
A Queen.
“You know a Titan is attempting to open Tartarus.” Persephone’s voice was cold. Her hands on the armrests of her chair and an expectant look on her face.
“Explain what you know now. I am done with your trickery. You are putting my realm in a position of vulnerability and I’ll not have it any longer.” She let out a growl on the last syllable that would have had mortals stepping away in fear.
The Moirai hardly flinched.
“Percy! Devon! So good to see you both again!”
“Not now, Clothos.” Persephone snarled. He reached out to put his hand over hers, the Moirai letting out a collective purr at his gesture.
Feeling embarrassed, he started to withdraw. Persephone reached over before he could, squeezing his hand with her other one before she let him go and leaned forward. Her elbows to her knees and hands clasped in front of her.
